The Girl in the Window Read Online Free Page A

too much of other times. He was right, though, she’d been focused on the lawnmower. It wasn’t his fault. She’d done nothing wrong.
    Those times were in the past, they were long past. Fear wasn’t a part of her life any more, not even here.
    Closing her eyes, with an effort she forced back the memories and the emotions they raised, to consider the situation rationally, as she’d been taught.
    She knew who he was, he was her neighbor.
    His name was Joshua…Josh Randall. The last name was on his mailbox, and she’d heard his men call him the other. Especially the older one, Russ, who always called him Joshua. He owned the ranch or farm or whatever you wanted to call it¸ next door.
    He hadn’t always lived there or she would have remembered him.
    She’d seen him at work with his men, riding out on the farm equipment, bringing in the cattle and other horses. Or standing beside the paddock, his arms folded on the rail. She’d been careful not to look too closely until now.
    Taking a breath to steady her breathing and her racing heart, she debated it, fighting the urge to run.
    She really wanted to get the grass mowed and it was a simple offer. He was just being polite. It wasn’t as if he’d jumped her. It was an act of kindness.
    “Yes, thank you,” she said, more breathlessly than she’d have liked, and fought to get her breathing back under control.
    He eyed her and the look in his eyes was oddly disconcerting, strangely understanding.
    “I have to get some tools,” he said. “You don’t have to stay, you can go do something else while I work on it.”
    A little startled, Beth fought the temptation his words offered. A chance for her to retreat, to lock the doors behind her once again. Not just the physical ones, but the emotional and mental ones, too.
    That just didn’t seem right, if he was going to work on her lawnmower. Her foster mother Ruth had taught her better.
    She shook her head. “No, it’s all right.”
    He was a good-looking man up close, with strong face. His hair was a sun-washed sandy brown, his eyes more green than blue. There was compassion and kindness in those warm eyes. He was firmly muscled from working around the farm and a little on the lean side. The thin tee shirt he wore didn’t hide the firm muscles of the chest beneath it or the lean belly.
    “I’ll be right back then,” he said, and walked away.
    She deliberately tried not to watch him go, waiting almost nervously and impatiently as he went past his house to the barn to get the tools he needed.
    Returning, Josh watched as the girl clearly fought the battle between staying and the need for flight. It was clearly an act of courage for her just to stay.
    “I can show you what to do if this happens again,” he offered quietly, so he wouldn’t startle her again. “It’s not hard. I can make a list of the tools you’ll need. Although this should do you for a while if I’m right.”
    She shook her head but watched intently as he removed the plug, wiped it and the cylinder to make sure there was no more oil in either.
    Carefully not to spill the gas, he tipped the machine, looked underneath. Grass was clogged under the mowing deck.
    “Be careful not to mow when the grass is wet, but if you do, make sure you clean underneath,” he said.
    He looked up into her blue eyes and she nodded.
    Getting up, he went to fetch something to clean the grass out of the deck from the shed, not wanting to mess up his own tools more than necessary.
    After opening the door, he wasn’t certain he wouldn’t feel better about using his own things.
    The old man had left the shed spotless. Each gleaming tool was in its carefully marked spot, clearly silhouetted in paint on the pegboard wall so there would be no mistake about what went where. Josh could tell that none had been touched in some time; there was a faint patina of dust on them. There was several hundred dollars’ worth of tools in there.
    A collection of painting materials had been